


The Cabin

by hiddenoptimist



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, F/M, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, Master/Pet, Multi, Sex Toys, Threesome - F/M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 23:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4282341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenoptimist/pseuds/hiddenoptimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A discussion about fantasies leads to a surprise weekend in Zayn's cabin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cabin

“Do you know what I’ve always wanted to do?”

Maggie rolled over, cuddling into Zayn’s side as she pulled the sheet further up her sweat-covered skin. “What?”

“I’ve always wanted to tie someone up.” He tickled her side teasingly, then draped his arm over her waist. “Like, tie a girl up and just  _dominate_  her, y’know? Like, hardcore porn and that.”

“You watch hardcore porn?” Maggie giggled.

Zayn pinched her lightly. “You know what I mean. Alright, I’ve spilled, your turn. What’s your biggest sexual fantasy?”

She bit her lip. “I’ve always wanted to be, like, kidnapped. Taken somewhere and just- well,” she laughed, “dominated, I guess.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve had an idea.” His voice had become low again, like it had when he’d been teasing her not ten minutes ago. “What if I kidnap you?”

“You’ve just told me, it’s lost all its appeal,” Maggie replied, sitting up. “What are you going to do? Grab me from a street corner and just take me here? I don’t want it to be predictable.”

Zayn raised his eyebrows at her. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be about as far from predictable as you can get. And I’m not going to take you here - I’m going to confuse you as much as I possibly can. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, you know.”

Maggie snorted and lay down again. “You don’t have sleeves.”

“I’ll have sleeves when I kidnap you.”

Zayn caught her waist and dragged her across the bedsheets towards him, cradling her head on his arm and pressing light kisses all over her face. Maggie thought about what she’d just agreed to - Zayn wouldn’t be too rough. She couldn’t see him as a strict dom, not when he was so kind and soft like this.

He rolled on top of her again, and she forgot all about their agreement.

***

It was almost two weeks later, and Maggie was out jogging, when she thought of their arrangement again.

The same car had passed her four times now. At first, she hadn’t been sure there was any cause for alarm; she had convinced herself it was just the same make of car. Now, as the car rounded the corner in front of her for a fifth time, she was sure she wasn’t imagining things.

A flicker of fear made her think about the possibilities of being kidnapped. For a brief moment, she remembered Zayn’s words about kidnapping her. He’d spoken them in a post-coital fuzz, surely he didn’t remember or mean them? Anyway, he wouldn’t risk taking her from a street corner, right out in the open, where anyone could see her.

Maggie stopped and turned on her heel. It was beginning to drizzle, and for once she was alone on the pavement. Warehouses lined the road. Somehow she’d run into the business district. She was a long way from home now, and she could see no one in the distance. The mysterious car was the only one on the road. Even the birds had fallen silent.

Brakes screeching behind her made her turn. The strange car had pulled up at the side of the road, the driver’s door opening. All she could see was a silhouette through the tinted windows, but it was enough to make her sprint down the pavement. Her lungs burned with every breath she forced herself to take, but she kept running. Footsteps pounded behind her, not one set but two. She was outnumbered.

A junction was approaching. Maggie turned left, splashing through a large puddle that slowed her down. Her pursuers did not give up. They were gaining on her; she could hear their laboured breathing.

Up ahead, at another junction, a car pulled up. She waved her arms frantically, but she was too breathless to yell for help. The car pulled straight out as soon as the lights changed, the driver not even glimpsing at her.

She could go on no further. Maggie stopped, resting her hands on her knees. The footsteps behind her slowed, then someone had a tight hold of her wrists, forcing them behind her back. Nobody stepped into her field of vision. From behind, a plastic ball was forced into her mouth, leather straps tightened around her cheeks. Thick tape was wrapped around her wrists. A hood was thrown over her head, and then she was lifted over her captor’s shoulder and carried away.

They took her back to their car. Neither of them spoke. Maggie heard the click of the boot being opened, then the clunk of old machinery. She was lowered into what she supposed was the boot, and the lid was shut.

It was dark even through the hood. The muffled sounds of the car doors closing reached her, and then the faint music from the radio. When the engine started, the boot vibrated. The tremors rocked her whole body. Her legs were bent at the knee and when she tried to stretch out, she found the space was too cramped to allow her free movement. Whenever she breathed, the hood was pulled closer to her mouth.

She felt suffocated and trapped. These people were not Zayn. These people wanted to do horrible things to her. She was reminded of every crime show she’d ever seen on TV. Chances were she’d been picked as a new victim for some sick murderer.

Maggie felt her breathing speed up. Her chest was tight, and increasingly with every breath, the hood was sucked closer to her lips. She tried to block out all ideas of kidnapping, murder, everything. Nothing helped. She began to feel light-headed.

Whenever the car made a sharp turn, she slid across the boot, knocking her head or some other part of her. She could hear her captors talking in hushed voices, two male voices, though that was all she could make out. The journey seemed to be taking a long time.

Whether she fell asleep or blacked out, she didn’t know, but when she opened her eyes the hood was no longer over her head. The gag was still in place, tight against her skin, and her hands were bound behind her, though the tape had been replaced with what felt like soft rope. Her ankles were also bound, and her movement was as limited as it had been in the boot.

She was no longer in the car. The surface she was lying on was elevated and isolated, made from wood - a table, perhaps. She faced a fabric sofa, and a pair of legs. This must be one of her captors. With a quiet murmur, she realised she recognised those legs.

Zayn reached over and ran his hand through her hair, loose around her shoulders. “Awake, are we? I told you I was going to kidnap you. It was only a matter of time.” He leaned back on the sofa and crossed his legs, chuckling to himself. “I have to admit, you run  _really_  fast. Harry didn’t think we were going to catch you, did you Harry?”

He was looking over to his right, where Maggie couldn’t see. She was shocked.  _Harry_ was here? Harry  _knew_  about her fantasy? She rationalised it: Zayn had needed someone to help track her down and capture her. Harry had been an obvious choice; he was huge and he wouldn’t take the piss like the other boys. So why was he still here?

Zayn answered her unspoken question for her. “I told you I wouldn’t be predictable, sweetheart. I own this house. It’s a nice little place out in the middle of nowhere, so you can scream all you want. No one’s going to hear you. We’re going to spend the weekend here, just me, you, and Harry.”

Zayn pulled her off the table, lifting her easily. He set her down on the floor, kneeling precariously. She felt as though she would topple over at any given moment. In her new position, she could see Harry sitting on the edge of the sofa, watching eagerly. Zayn crouched in front of her, one hand held lightly around her throat to keep her still, the other working on the buckle for the gag. The little red ball, covered in saliva, dropped from her lips into his palm.

He leaned in close to her ear. “You’re going to be our little slut for the weekend, aren’t you? You’re going to let us use you how we please, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us. You’re going to be our little slut. What are you going to be?”

Maggie stayed silent as he watched her expectantly. His palm came down on her cheek in a light slap: a warning. They both knew he could and would hit harder.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“A little slut,” she mumbled.

“Louder.”

“A little slut.”

“Whose little slut?”

“Your little slut.”

She felt defiled just saying the words, and yet there was a part of her that longed to be humiliated further. Something inside of her wanted this, and it wasn’t as if she couldn’t back out if she really wanted to - Zayn would know if she couldn’t take it and he’d stop the whole thing. She trusted him enough to know that.

Zayn nodded and pushed his thumb between her lips. “Let’s get started then.”

He walked around her, dropping the wet ball gag onto her lap. She twisted, attempting to follow him with her eyes. There was a large chalkboard on the wall behind her, where Zayn now stood. He scraped his nails down the board, making her flinch, and picked up a piece of chalk.

“This cabin has rules,” he said, not looking at her. Harry was watching her with interest. “You have to follow them. Rule number one: you call me ‘Daddy’. You call Harry ‘Sir’. Rule number two: Do everything we say. You have no opinion anymore; anything we say goes. Rule number three: you’re not allowed on the furniture unless we say so. Rule number four: no talking back. Rule number five: no swearing. Rule number six: you are not allowed to cum without permission. You have to ask both of us first. Do you understand?”

Maggie nodded numbly. This was not what she’d expected. Rules, restraints... Harry - this was nothing like what she’d thought he’d do. She’d expected a quick grab, then probably sharing a laugh, and then sex rough enough to break the headboard of the large, soft queen-sized bed in his house.

Zayn was approaching her. He slapped her again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer. Do you understand the rules?”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

She was slapped a third time. “Yes,  _what_?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

Zayn touched the top of her head lightly, a brief sign of approval. He wouldn’t show a lot of love for her, not while Harry was around, at least, and Maggie was grateful for even the tiniest touch. It was a nice reminder that this was all a game, and he hadn’t gone completely insane.

“Harry,” Zayn said, stepping back.

Harry got off the sofa, crouching down behind her. She coudn’t see him, could only feel his hands as he lifted the fabric of her clothes from her skin, sliding the cool metal of scissor blades across her back. Her shirt was cut away from her, her running shorts following after. She was left kneeling on the floor in her underwear, until Harry plucked at the back of her sports bra. Zayn nodded slowly, and the rest of the garments were cut from her.

Harry’s hands left her, and she felt vulnerable. Here she was, sitting on the floor completely naked, restrained and on display for the two men beginning to pace around her. Zayn joined Harry behind her back, murmuring to the younger boy. She couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Zayn wound her hair around his fist with a sharp tug, dragging her across the floor until her knees hit the front of the sofa. He dropped down on the sofa, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his jeans. Maggie watched as he shuffled on the sofa, pulling out his cock. She knew what he wanted from her; she straightened up on her knees, straining at the rope around her wrists.

He pulled her head forward, holding out his cock. She opened her mouth, but he pushed her head back a little. “No, no. Keep your mouth shut.” He brought her closer once she’d obeyed, pressing the head of his cock against her lips. “See, I don’t want you to suck me off - not yet, at least.” He stopped to squirt lube onto his free hand, then began to stroke himself. “You’re not ready to do that just yet. No, I’m going to mark you.”

She sat there between his knees, feeling the strain in her shoulders, as his fingers brushed her lips. Zayn was aroused by her state, she could tell, and it didn’t take him long to falter a little. His cum oozed over her lips and he smeared it across her cheek with his thumb, watching her open her mouth slightly. She felt a sense of ownership, and she loved it.

“There,” he said. “Marked. Now, turn around and stick your arse in the air. I’m going to fuck that cum from your face into the carpet.”

He didn’t move to help her. Maggie shuffled away from him on her knees, turning until she had her back to him. She wobbled, trying to keep her balance yet slowly lower her head to the floor. There was a sigh from behind her, and Zayn’s hand between her shoulder blades. Dull pain filled her jaw as her face hit the carpet and she let out an involuntary grunt.

“You’re going to have to move a lot quicker than that,” Zayn said, kneeling down behind her. His hands rubbed over her thighs. “I won’t tolerate waiting for you.” He ran a finger between her legs. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to fuck you yet. Harry?”

Zayn stood, strolling around to linger in front of her. Harry’s footsteps told her he was kneeling behind her, replacing Zayn. The scratch of his zip was the loudest thing she could hear, and she wasn’t sure if she was okay with it. He pressed two fingers to her entrance, and then the blunt, latex-coated tip of his cock was pushing into her.

She gasped, fluff from the carpet filling her mouth. Harry was large and thick, nothing like Zayn was, and she felt her walls stretch painfully to accommodate him. His fingers pressed into her hips, so hard she knew there would be bruises at the end of the weekend. Harry stopped once he was fully in her, waiting for orders. Zayn sat down on the sofa, watching; Maggie’s head twisted to the side and she could see his feet. Harry began to move, his thrusts gradually growing deeper. She quickly adjusted to his size.

Her shoulders dug into the carpet. She kept her eyes on Zayn’s feet. In her mind, it was he who was fucking her. When he spoke, she almost didn’t hear him.

“What a little slut,” he said quietly. “Fucking my band mate right in front of me. That’s the behaviour of a whore. Tell me what you are.”

“A whore, Daddy,” Maggie moaned, feeling Harry squeeze her cheeks.

“A whore with no shame, even worse.” He laughed. “Who are you going to sleep with tonight, whore? Harry? Or will you grace me with your presence? Oh, wait - you’re not allowed on the furniture. Don’t worry though, we’ve got you your own bed.”

Harry laughed and slowed down a little. “Bark bark, little bitch.”

“Harry, not yet. You can be louder than that, whore, I know you can. No need to be quiet here, no one’s going to hear you. No one’s coming to your rescue either.”

Maggie felt Harry pull out. The wet snapping of stretched latex came from behind her, and Harry’s hand wound itself in her hair. He pulled her upright, turning her around to face him, and bending her over his cock. His movements mirrored Zayn’s earlier; he laid the tip of his cock against the corner of her lips and came over her cheeks.

Harry moved away, leaving Maggie panting on the carpet. Zayn pulled her to her feet, untying the ropes around her wrists and ankles. She reached up to wipe her face, but he caught her hand.

“Stop. Do not wipe your face. I said you would be marked. Besides, bitches don’t clean themselves.” A smile grew over his face. “And now you’re going to put on a show for us. Get on the table.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she mumbled, sitting on the table.

Zayn pushed and pulled her, rearranging her body until she was lying on the coffee table, her legs spread, exposing herself. Harry sat in front of her. There was a space next to him where Zayn would sit.

Zayn reached behind the sofa and revealed a long, thick, sparkly purple vibrator. He handed it to her, chuckling at her wide, surprised look. “Fuck yourself, whore. Amuse us.”

Maggie turned it over in her fingers. There was a small switch on the bottom with three settings: off, low, and high. It was currently turned off. She fingered the switch, but didn’t turn it on just yet. The large head touched her clit as she lowered it between her legs. Zayn and Harry sat on the sofa opposite her, watching eagerly. Harry was rubbing his palm against his crotch, not quite having progressed to actual stroking. Maggie swallowed the thick lump stuck at the back of her throat and slowly pressed the dildo into her.

It was bigger than she’d originally thought, stretching her walls and making her gasp. Zayn’s mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smirk. Maggie didn’t dare press the switch; it would take her a few minutes just to get used to the size of the toy. As gently as she could, she slid the dildo further into her. She found - a discovery that resulted in a mixture of horror and arousal - that she needed no lubricant. The toy was too large to fit completely inside her and the end with the controls stuck out a few inches. There was no doubt in her mind that she looked ridiculously slutty, with her legs spread and a too-big toy stuffed inside her.

Zayn was nodding approvingly. He raised his hand to catch her attention, and said, “Turn it on.”

Her fingers trembling, Maggie felt for the switch. There was no hesitation on her part. They’d already thrown her into the boot of a car and taken her here. She didn’t know how far their boundaries stretched concerning punishments and pain. Her fingers hit the switch too fast, flicking it all the way onto high. With a loud, breathless moan, her head fell back and her legs gave out at the immediate response from the toy, leaving her ass to drop onto the table with no support and shoving the toy a little further into her. The pain at the sudden, burning intrusion filled her, but at the same time she felt a sensation she could only describe as pleasure.

“I wasn’t going to make you go all the way just now, but whatever,” Zayn shrugged, leaning back against the sofa. He unzipped his jeans. “Make lots of noise. I  _love_ it when you scream.”

He nudged Harry discretely, but Maggie didn’t see the movement. She was lying flat out on the table now, her back arching with every move from the toy, which was beginning to slip out of her, with her eyes squeezed shut and her fists clenched. Her hand had fallen from the base of the toy, but Harry knelt between her legs and grasped the vibrator, shoving it as far into her as it would go. The resulting burn from the tight fit made Maggie scream, and Zayn began to laugh.

“I really do love it when you do that,” he said, grinning maniacally.

Maggie could feel the pleasure building, tightening into a knot at the base of her stomach, a pressure mounting in her centre. She remembered the rules scrawled on the chalkboard and her growing fear of an unknown punishment. Her lips formed the words, but she made no sound other than a scream as Harry pulled the vibrator all the way out of her only to violently shove it back in. Her fingers clawed at the air as, finally, she found her voice.

“Daddy, can I- can I cum?” she asked, certain her voice was nothing more than a whisper that he couldn’t hear.

He heard her. “Ask Harry first. Look him in the eye and ask him if the filthy whore can cum.”

Maggie lifted her head, sweat lacing her skin, and caught Harry’s eye. “Sir, can the filthy whore cum please, sir?”

Harry glanced back at Zayn, shrugged, then nodded. “I don’t see why not. Now ask Zayn.”

Maggie’s head fell back against the table painfully. “Daddy, can the filthy whore please cum?”

“I don’t know...”

“Daddy, please!” Her breath was coming in loud pants now, and her throat felt tight.

“Alright. The filthy whore can cum.”

Maggie’s exhilarated scream could have been heard from a mile away, if there’d been anyone there to hear it. She went limp, consumed by the pleasure. Her mind went blank, thoughts unravelling even as they formed, her body experiencing her first, literal, mind-blowing orgasm. She’d never felt this way before.

Maggie felt as though she’d passed out. She’d certainly lost time. When she came to, her mind slowly focusing again, she was no longer lying on the coffee table. One of the boys had moved her to the floor. Her mouth was dry. She sat up slowly, feeling her head spin a little, and used the sofa to support her. A hand came down to pat her head. Zayn was leaning over the arm of the sofa, petting her hair a little.

She reached for him, but stopped when she spotted what was locked around her wrist. A thick, leather cuff securely fastened with a padlock was pressed tightly, but not painfully, against her skin. Another was fastened around her other wrist, and her ankles bore similar restraints. They were not attached to anything, but they had the potential. Around her throat, she felt a matching leather collar. This  _was_  locked onto something - a leash that ran from her neck to the leg of the coffee table. She had about two metres’ range around the table, but she couldn’t move any farther. Almost all of her range was taken up by Harry and Zayn’s legs.

“Like them?” Zayn asked. “Can’t have you running away when we’re not playing with you. We’ll always be playing with you, though - just not directly.”

Maggie became aware of something stretching both of her holes. She felt between her legs. A belt made from rigid plastic looped around her waist and between her legs, widening to cover her holes. The wet proof of her arousal seeped through the sides when she moved, but other than that the two toys were stuffed firmly inside her. They were both attached to the belt, she discovered, and would move slightly whenever she shifted position.

Zayn waved a small black rectangle. “Technology’s great, don’t you think? With this remote, I can do this-”

He pressed a button and the vibrator in Maggie’s pussy began to vibrate. The vibrations changed speed and strength rapidly, flowing through a seemingly random pattern that Zayn had no doubt pre-determined. He cut off the toy abruptly.

“This-”

The second button made the toy in her ass vibrate. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth together. How long had she been out if they’d managed to do all of this to her?

“And this.”

The third button made both toys vibrate at different speeds and strengths. Maggie squeezed her thighs together, but it only made the sensation stronger. A whimper made it past her guarded mouth.

Zayn was smiling at her as he turned both toys off. “I like watching you suffer more than I like watching you cum, you know that?”

For the next few hours, though they felt like an eternity, Maggie sat quietly on the floor, suffering through unpredictable and overwhelming vibrations. Neither Zayn nor Harry said another word to her, unless it was to order her to suck them off (she did it twice each in those few hours with the vibrators working at their full capacity) or to deny her permission to cum (she’d lost count of the number of times she’d asked). Each time, they’d cum on her face, adding to the mess they’d left before. It began to get dark outside, and Zayn got up to make dinner. Maggie ate hers from a plate on the floor.

After dinner, Zayn untied Maggie from the table, leading her to the bedroom without a word. He took her wrists gently, looping rope through the links on the cuffs to tie them together, then removing the belt and the attached toys. She sighed in relief, following the rest of his instructions without protest. With her hands bound in front of her, she sat on Zayn’s lap in the middle of the bed. He tore off his clothes and lifted her restrained wrists to drape them around his neck.

The mattress dipped as Harry crawled onto the bed behind her. She couldn’t turn to look at him. He pressed himself to her back, his skin on hers, his clothes forming small puddles on the carpet. Without her realising, both of the men had rolled on condoms; she could feel the latex rub against her thighs and back. Zayn lifted her hips, slowly lowering her onto his cock.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said, smoothing her hair away from her face and her cum-stained lips, which had parted as he entered her. “Harry and I are going to take a hole each. You’re going to let us fuck you.  _Do not move_. Maybe if you behave yourself, we’ll let you sleep on the bed tonight. Understand?”

Maggie nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“No, say it.”

“I understand, Daddy.”

“Good. Harry?”

Harry had been busy wiping lube over her hole. She didn’t need much: the toy earlier had stretched her a lot, but she could tell Harry was doing everything her could to not hurt her. He pushed into her slowly, filling her up. Once he could move no farther, Maggie got comfortable on both of their laps.

Zayn’s hands stroked over her waist. His hips began to move, thrusting into her so softly that at first she couldn’t even feel it. Harry didn’t move, waiting for the same signal Maggie was. Zayn watched for any adverse reactions as he gradually became braver, making the bed creak beneath them.

Maggie gasped as Harry began to move, at different times from Zayn, creating a strange painful-but-in-a-good-way feeling. She felt her knees tremble on the sheets and give out, and had Zayn not had his arms around her to catch her, she would have slid further onto both of them far too fast. Already, there was a mounting pressure in her abdomen, created from both the teasing they’d put her through earlier and her current situation. She found her cheek pressed to Zayn’s chest, rising and falling rapidly beneath her.

“Can I cum, Daddy?” she breathed.

Somehow, he heard her. “Ask Harry.”

His voice was strained and he had slowed his pace; he was nearly there as well. Maggie didn’t have the energy to twist and face Harry, so when she asked him it was with her back to him, and with the same volume as before. She had to ask twice before he heard her.

“Yes,” Harry groaned, squeezing her hips. “Yes, cum, do it.”

She looked up at Zayn through her eyelashes. He raised a hand and stroked her hair, dipping down to gently kiss the top of her head. This was the Zayn she knew and loved - though the new, controlling Zayn was beginning to grow on her.

“Cum,” he whispered, kissing her hair again.

He waited until her orgasm was over and she had stopped writhing in his lap to pull out of her. Harry copied him, and the two men rolled off their condoms. Zayn took hold of Maggie’s hair, though not too roughly, and rearranged her limp body until her face was level with his cock. He came into the corner of her lips, watching it drip down her chin and onto the bedsheets.

Harry took her next, doing the same but over her cheeks, and handed her back. Maggie, tired and overwhelmed but in a place of complete bliss, cuddled into Zayn’s side. He fished the duvet from the floor - it had been swept off the bed before she had even entered the room - and arranged it over the two of them.

“I think that deserves a night in the bed,” he said, laying Maggie down on the pillow. “See you in the morning, Harry.”

Maggie curled into Zayn’s side, enjoying the warmth of his arms around her. He kissed her temple, tucking the duvet around her trembling figure.

“You’re still okay with this, right?” he asked quietly, once Harry’s footsteps outside of the bedroom had stopped. “I know it’s a lot, and I’m sorry about not telling you about Harry. You can back out at any time, you know that, don’t you?”

She nodded, lacking the strength to speak, and pressed her forehead against his warm skin. Both of them were flushed and sweat-soaked, but neither cared. Zayn had told Maggie before that he preferred her like this, drained and sweaty, in a post-coital bliss.

When she woke the next morning, Zayn was already awake, tracing over the contours of her skin with his fingertips. She opened her mouth to speak, but he covered her lips with his hand and smiled warmly at her.

“New rule for today: no talking. Go get some food, then go and shower and stuff. We’ll start once you’re ready.”

Maggie left his warm embrace and padded through to the kitchen. Harry wasn’t up yet, and the cabin was almost eerily quiet. Every now and again as she ate, she could hear the bed creak as Zayn moved. She took her chance to look outside; for miles, all she could see were trees. Birds fluttered from branch to branch, whistling at each other. She finished her tea and washed the dishes she’d used, still staring out of the window.

The bathroom was just past Harry’s bedroom. She sped up as she passed, absurdly afraid that he would emerge and prevent her from entering the bathroom. The shower was warm, and there was a bag of new nice-smelling toiletries for her to use. She took her time, revelling in the heat and the peace. Whenever she brushed her hands over her skin, she found a new bruise, darkening even as she watched.

Harry and Zayn were both out of bed and sitting in the living room when she left the bathroom, just wrapped in a towel. Zayn clicked his fingers and pointed to the floor. He was back to the strict Master. Maggie dropped the towel and knelt down in front of him.

“Hey, pup,” Zayn said, reaching for the coffee table. It was covered by a sheet, and Maggie could see the lumps and bumps of the concealed equipment. Zayn ran a hand through her hair and pulled something out from under the sheet. “Are you going to be a good girl for us today?”

She nodded enthusiastically. The easier she complied, the quicker the time would pass and the sooner she’d have her soft, loveable Zayn back to herself again. He moved her hair away from her face and slid a headband behind her ears. She reached up automatically, pausing when she realised she might not have been allowed to touch, but Zayn nodded encouragingly.

Her fingers met soft fur. Attached to the band were two furry ear pointed upwards. She felt soft satin ribbon tied into tiny bows beneath each ear. Zayn was already reaching under the sheet again.

“Stand up and turn around,” he ordered, waiting until she’d obeyed him before pulling out the next item from beneath the sheet.

Maggie felt cold fingers separating her cheeks and probing her hole. His fingers slipped inside her easily - she was still loose from the night before. When he drew out, he replaced his fingers with a rubbery, bulbous plug. She twisted around to see what he’d done. Between her legs was a short, rubber tail that moved whenever she did. She knew its purpose; if she moved her bum, the tail would wag. They were dehumanising her.

Zayn patted her cheeks, watching the tail jiggle. He grinned, and pulled her hips down to force her back into a kneeling position. She shuffled around to face him again.

“Remember: no talking, you’re not allowed on the furniture, and no acting like a person. You’re a puppy today, so you have no self-control. Cum when you have to. Crawl. If you break the rules, I’ll tie you to a tree outside. Understand?”

Maggie nodded. Zayn held up a pink leather collar before fastening it around her throat. He sat back, spreading his legs, and hooked a finger through her collar to pull her closer. She took him in her mouth immediately, keeping her hands and knees flat on the floor. Zayn stroked her hair as she lapped at him.

“Wag your tail for us, pretty puppy,” Harry said, reaching over to pat her back.

Maggie wiggled her ass, feeling the tail hit off her skin. The rubber was thick, and surprisingly heavy; it acted like a stinging whip against her skin. Zayn chuckled, gently pushing her away from him.

“Not yet, pup,” he said. “Go for a run around the room for us.”

Maggie was subjected to humiliating tasks all day. The men had her running around, begging them for sex, and she ate her lunch out of a metal dog bowl. By the time mid-afternoon rolled around, her tail and ears were striped with cum.

Zayn had her on the floor, hands on her hips, fucking into her, when Harry emerged from his room with his bag over his shoulder. He stroked Maggie’s hair, brushing his fingers over her lips.

“I’d better go,” he said, straightening up. “I’ll see you later, Zayn. Bye, puppy - I had fun.”

Harry left, closing the door softly behind him. Zayn folded himself over Maggie’s back and kissed the back of her neck, stroking her ears. His hand slid underneath her stomach and he rubbed her clit, slowing his pace. Maggie’s lips were parted, her tongue poking out. Her panting increased as she drew closer to a climax.

She came, her arms giving out on her. Zayn caught her waist and pulled her upright again, gently slipping out. He came over her cheeks and tail, then sat her on his lap and leaned back against the sofa.

“You can speak now,” he said, kissing her cheeks. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Maggie nodded. “It was a lot.”

“Mmm. I’m really tired, so you must be exhausted. We could pack up, leave just now, and get takeaway on the way home?”

Maggie bit her lip. “I kind of don’t want to leave. If we go, this is over, right?”

Zayn smiled. “Not necessarily. Do you like being a puppy? Because I can work with that. Plus we do actually own the stuff.”

“I just don’t think I’m ready for it to end, even if we’ll continue it at home.”

He twisted the plug attached to the tail thoughtfully. “You know, we took all our stuff here in a van. Harry took his own car, but I still have the van.  _And_...”

Zayn got up, carrying Maggie with him to the pantry in the kitchen. Underneath all the shelves was a large dog cage. It was big enough for Maggie to fit inside comfortably. Zayn kissed her cheek.

“We could always put it in the back of the van, no one would see you there,” he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Maggie grinned and kissed him. “You’re the best.”

“I know. Now get in there, pup. I’ll carry you to the van.”


End file.
